Mate (Bride, #2)

by Ali Hazelwood

Once again, a bit jarring to hear, especially as he rolls thick, soft socks up my shins. They reach just below my knees. I might just go to my deathbed wearing them.

Ali, my queen, what is it with you and socks babe??

“As is appropriate when one loses a fight against a bear,” Jorma says, straight-faced.

Its giving himbo king Emmett

I need to be isolated to properly rot in my dysfunctions.

Amen

I used to be a sunscreen evangelist, and truly believe everybody should use it, but people like me (i.e., those who won’t live long enough to develop melanoma) are exempt.

!!!

“I guess not everyone has the knees for pickleball.”

…

All Koen can do is skid to a stop. Let one hand tug at his hair. Watch as the boy’s body travels through the air. Listen to a long, long silence, broken only by the sound of bones crashing against stone.

This is giving twilight??

“That’s some grade A compartmentalization.”

Thank you, my therapist agrees

“Thanks.” I toss my hair back. “It’s the childhood trauma.”

Clocked

“Say it. After what?” I have to. Out loud.

See I told you this shit was giving twilight

think he might want to know everything that’s in my head. I think he could shake every thought I’ve ever had out of my skull, rummage through them for years, and still not be bored.

Okay edward

“Lady, fuck you and your tea.”

Am sorry.

“Anyhoodles,

I fear

“Miss Girl, I don’t give a shit about that.”